“Witness”: A Poem by Santi Tafarella
I’ve been told
that the shore’s scattered
jellyfish
are remnant tissue
from the placenta
of creation
that millions of years ago
out of its belly
the ocean heaved forth
the mountains and the valleys—
and this was witnessed
by the single eye
of the moon
who told the tale
to four North American
Indians
living in Bakersfield
last August.
I don’t know
about any of this
first hand
but I smell fish
and I see a film of bubbles
sleek like saliva
while polished pebbles
roll off the beach like tears.
